


Hawaiian Vacation

by Darkorangecat (Calacious)



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Humor, Love, Romance, Smut, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-16
Updated: 2014-01-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 00:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4585959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Darkorangecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles set in Hawaii, featuring Diane and Max.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hawaiian Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the characters portrayed in this work of fiction. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> Originally written for gh_unwrapped on livejournal.

1\. Four Seasons

"Hu…a? La? La? I? Hu..a..la…lay? Hulala lie?"

Max tentatively read the sign on the hotel, rubbing the back of his head as he did so. He hadn't been too sure about this little getaway Diane had proposed, but had gone along with it anyway. Hell, what was a man to do when the love of his life pouted and cajoled to get her own way. Not that he minded the way she pouted; it was downright sexy and made him shiver and flush with heat.

Course his idea of a trip to Hawaii had been white sand beaches, rum-filled coconuts and unhealthy sunburns, not the extravagant resort he now stood gaping up at.

"Reservation for Miller." Diane's sweet voice, low and practically purring pulled him out of his stupor and he, decked out in his bright Hawaiian shirt, surged forward on benumbed legs, joining her at the front desk.

Belatedly, he reached for his wallet, only to have Diane bat his hand away dismissively as she handed the hotel manager a well-used credit card. She raised a single eyebrow as he opened his mouth to protest.

"Mahalo and enjoy your stay at the Four Seasons Resort Hualalai." The manager smiled benignly at the couple as she finished checking them in and handed the keycards over to the clearly besotted couple.

Max's attention was riveted to Diane's full, pouty lips, causing him to miss, yet again, the proper pronunciation for the name of the place they'd be staying for the next two weeks. _Damn_ , he thought half-heartedly as he followed the swaying hips of his lover to their ocean-view room, _can't think straight. Good thing the boss ain't here to witness this._

Diane led the way into the lavish room, pausing just long enough to shuck her shoes while the bellhop deposited their luggage. Max absentmindedly handed the young man a tip, eyes on the sultry curves of his mistress.

As soon as the door clicked into place, Diane was shrugging out of her dress, Max's calloused hands gently touched her already sun-kissed shoulders. His mouth hovered inches above the freckled skin, momentarily basking in the warmth which radiated from his lover before tenderly, passionately lowering his lips to her bare shoulder and suckling.

Diane purred, arching slightly, toes curling as she leaned into Max's touch. Tilting her neck to allow his roaming mouth access to her throat, she watched the sun dip lower in the horizon, its orange golden mass resting on the crest of a wave. She saw a brief flash of green, an electric current surged through her, Max's tongue, as the sun was devoured by the ocean and Max nibbled playfully on an earlobe.

"Did you see that?" Diane asked breathlessly. "It was breathtakingly beautiful."

"Mmmhmmm." Max mumbled in response, his lips engaged on an area of her skin just above her right breast. _Breathtakingly beautiful…_

 

 

* * *

 

2\. Beach Time

Max squinted in the bright sun, shielding his eyes with his hand as he scanned the horizon. He really should have worn that straw hat and those sunglasses Diane had laid out for him before she left for her morning yoga class.

He'd barely acknowledged her when she woke him with a kiss and invited him to join her. He'd grunted out something incomprehensible and she'd laughed, asking him to join her on the beach later. She'd pinched him playfully before slipping into her workout clothes and simple flip-flops which brought a long, drawn out sigh from her.

Though she was enjoying their visit to Maui, he knew that she longed to wear her designer shoes without fear of ruining them with the fine sand that pervaded nearly every square inch of the resort. Personally, he enjoyed her barefoot, the delicate arch of her foot was tantalizing. Not that he would ever breathe a word of that to her. He did not relish the scathing lecture that would be sure to conjure and they only had a few days left of their vacation.

The ocean glinted in the sun, miniature diamonds darting and dancing in the crashing waves which swallowed his feet, threatening to tug him under as the water receded, dragging the sand with it. He stood his ground, planting his feet, sinking into the shifting sand as the ebbing water swirled around him in dizzying, hypnotic swirls.

He could feel the heat of the noon sun baking him in its cruel condemnation. He was already red as a lobster, even his peeling skin was peeling and it didn't seem to matter how much sunblock he slathered on, the sun always managed to break through and roast him.

_Damn, where is that woman?_ His eyes skimmed the beach once more; the sun's sparkling off the white sand temporarily blinded him and he blinked rapidly to clear his vision. He nodded and smiled at a buxom bikini-clad blonde, nearly losing his footing as another wave crashed against him. The blonde laughed and waved as she continued on down the beach. He half-heartedly returned her wave, concentrating on regaining his footing.

He frowned, returning to his task, looking for the love of his life amidst assorted vacationers limning the beach, swimming in the glittering ocean. A flash of rich auburn glimmered in the sun, skin, tanned a perfect gilded-brown glistened and full, deep-throated laughter floated down the beach. Max's breath caught in his throat.

Diane, his golden goddess, tossed her head back as she laughed at something Max couldn't hear. His eyes narrowed as she grasped the bronzed arm of a young, brawny man when a wave struck them. Clad in a skimpy red bikini, which Max had coaxed off his lover the night before, Diane was a mouthwatering vision and Max blinked, hoping that she was not a mirage which would vanish in the bedazzling light of the spiteful sun.

He trudged through the water, pummeled by merciless waves that struck him with vicious force. They pushed and pulled at him, attempting to wrestle him under, but he was a man on a mission and not easily deterred.

The mysterious man's arm was resting on the curve of her waist. Max's fist clenched as he neared the pair. Jealousy, jade-green god, reared its ugly head and he sacrificed himself to it. He pulled back his fist and ignored Diane's protests as he brought his fist to bear, sending himself and the dimpled man into the ocean as another wave struck and pulled them beneath its briny surface.

He pulled his fist back as the waves made a hasty retreat, shaking off Diane's arresting arm as he once more hit the man who'd dared to touch his woman.

"Maxwell, stop it this instant!" Diane's voice, slightly bemused, finally pulled him out of his jealous rage and he looked up at her, fist poised in the air to strike. He lowered his fist, sending a murderous look at his foe as he took Diane's proffered hand and allowed her to pull him away from the ocean.

Smirking, hands on her hips, she brushed the wet hair from his forehead before speaking, "The man you've given a bloody lip to was my surfing instructor."

Scowling, Max looked over his shoulder, wincing slightly as the lithe young man stumbled onto the shore and Diane's words finally registered.

"Oh…" He blushed, bowing contritely as he realized that he'd hit an innocent man.

"So," Diane arched an eyebrow, "are you done playing caveman?"

Max nodded sheepishly, taking the hand she offered, squeezing it slightly as she led them up the beach toward their hotel.

"Too bad." Diane pouted and Max looked up in surprise. "It was kind of nice to have my man all hot and bothered over me, though it wouldn't do for you to be like that all of the time mind you." She sniffed, "Though, some of the time, it, well…I think I'd kind of like it."

Max grinned.

"By the way," Max looked up sharply at the predatory tone which suddenly graced Diane's voice, "who was that blonde?"

Not wasting time on words, knowing he'd only dig himself into a deeper hole, he pulled Diane close, sweeping her off her feet and kissed her.

"What blonde?" He asked breathlessly.

"Uh uh," Diane wagged a finger at him, "you're not going to get off that easy mister."

"I didn't expect to," he murmured, nuzzling her neck as he carried her through the door to their room. "Was hoping I wouldn't, cave woman."

* * *

 

3\. Mahalo Nui Loa

"Max," Diane purred seductively, nibbling on her lover's earlobe.

Max shivered in spite of the heat; Hawaii was hot in winter, at least compared to Port Charles this time of year. He spared a moment's thought for his half-brother, Milo, wondering how he was celebrating his Thanksgiving, whether he was dining with friends or spending it alone. He thought fondly of turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce, knowing that the Hawaiian fare would no doubt rival that of anything they'd have back home, but missed being able to spend the holiday with family.

Diane traced his cheek with an ornately manicured fingernail. She pushed him back against the pillows, knees straddling his waist. "Penny for your thoughts." Her voice was husky as she lowered her mouth to his neck, blazing a trail of kisses up to his lips and capturing them hungrily.

Thoughts of Milo and Thanksgiving dinner flew out the window as he ravenously returned her kiss, pushing up on his elbows, capturing her face in his hands. He settled her in his lap, letting his insatiable appetite for the lawyer take complete control of him.

"You," Max managed to gasp, "are my turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce," he mumbled.

Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Diane drew back, slapping a stilling hand against his chest. He moaned plaintively and playfully leaned forward, nipping at her lower lip.

"Excuse me?" She snorted, pulling away slightly.

Max blinked, momentarily confused, having forgotten the question and his impromptu answer of it. He searched her eyes frantically, wondering what he'd done wrong. The heat of mid-afternoon combined with the heat of passion, making his skin slick with sweat.

Smiling at the lost look which had overtaken his features, as well as the unconcealed lust in Max's eyes, Diane took pity on him. Shaking her head, she chuckled. "Never mind, just kiss me you fool."

Max eagerly complied, grateful that whatever stupid thing he'd said had been brushed aside for the moment. He'd never had more to be thankful for on any prior Thanksgiving that he could recall. No, Milo, turkey and stuffing aside, this was by far the best Thanksgiving feast of which he'd ever partaken.

"Mahalo nui loa," he said after a pause, trying out the foreign words that he'd painstakingly learned from one of the Hawaiian surfers he'd met the other day.

Diane had insisted that he, not only apologize to her instructor for socking him, but also take lessons of his own. After a week, he'd finally managed to stand up on the board; Diane had proved to be quite adept at the sport and was the instructor's star pupil.

They'd extended their stay on the peaceful island, Max not relishing returning to his duties for Sonny Corinthos, though he had nothing but respect and loyalty for the man, and Diane wishing to bask in the sun just a little longer to perfect her tan before facing the long, cold winter of the northern clime. Both were content to forestall their homecoming, and the return to the mundane, for the time being.

"What was that?" Diane captured his lower lip between her teeth and gently pulled at it.

"Thank you," Max responded simply as he indulged his baser, animalistic instincts, giving and taking love in equal measure.

 

* * *

 

4\. Trade Winds

Max felt sweat pooling at the base of his neck and trickling down his armpits. His arms were burdened with a multitude of shopping bags, from a variety of stores. Some were paper, with handles, others were plastic.

He'd lost count of how many bags he was carrying several hours ago, merely taking the next sack as it was blindly handed to him by an ecstatic, shop-happy Diane.

Laden with shoes, jewelry, souvenirs, and various other sundries, Max wondered if he'd succumb to heatstroke right there in the open air strip mall along the shores of Waikiki.

According to the locals, it was unseasonably hot, and uncharacteristically humid because of a lack of trade winds coming from the direction of the Big Island.

"Max, do try to keep up," Diane scolded him as he lingered by a bench, contemplating how best to go about sitting on it without damaging any of the goods in the bags.

Sighing, he looked longingly at the bench, brushing at the sweat on his brow with the back of his hand. He doubted that this would be over any time soon, but gave the love of his life a smile, and hurried to catch up.

Love certainly did funny things to people.


End file.
